It is a well known fact that women fall into two categories: those who are shoe addicts and those who are purse addicts. I come from a very long line of shoe addicts. I would most likely follow in their footsteps, however, I have abnormal feet. No, I don't have an abnormal number of toes. I just have very long, very skinny feet. Imagine skis. Put toes on the end and you have my feet. And, lucky me, both my second and third toes are almost as long as my big toe. I was once at a zoo and there was an impression of an ape's foot next to their area. I held up my foot. Let's just say that my feet would be an argument scientists might use to support the hypothesis that we are very close cousins of the ape. They do come in handy, however, as I can pick up things with them, and I can write my name with them - both skills I know you envy. These are not feet designed to be crammed into pretty pointy-toed stilletos. Now that you have an uncomfortably incredible amount of knowledge about my feet, I will return to the real subject at hand: My addiction to purses.
Mention the words "Dooney & Bourke" or "Coach", and I will almost shiver with ecstasy. The leather is soft and beautiful. My addiction has not been helped by the fact that a fortuitous stop at an outlet mall outside of Denver landed me in the middle of a 70% off sale in a Coach outlet. It took me almost an hour to decide upon the one purse I would buy that day. I thought that would probably be my one and only dance with the purse devil. But the evil dealers got my email address and have ensnared me in a cycle I can't give up. Not only do I love purses, I love a good deal. So you can see how easy it was for me to take this plunge into addiction. About twice a year the pushers send me an email letting me have private access to a sale. And who in their right mind can turn down 70%off???? It's really not my fault! I'm sure you agree.
This year's sale was timed very well. El Hubbo has mixed feelings about my addiction. He is somewhat relieved that I can do my own christmas shopping, and he won't have to worry about going out christmas eve and fighting the other husbands who wait until the last minute to buy their wives something that they probably don't really want. This gift is a no miss. But, he doesn't understand why I need more than one purse. I tell him over and over that these purses are great quality, will last forever, straps won't break, etc. I'm not sure he's buying what I'm selling. But, if he intended to dampen my enthusiasm for my addiction, he did not do a very good job of it. Literally at the same time I was on the computer attempting to decide which of the lovely beauties would be mine this time, he calls me. I answer the phone (while never taking my eyes from the screen), and he proceeds to tell me that he got a speeding ticket.
This is not the first speeding ticket he's gotten during our marriage. El Hubbo has quite the leaden foot. I don't know how he drags that thing around. You wouldn't believe how many he's talked his way out of in the course of our marriage, but every now and then even my silver-tongued honey cannot con his way out of one. I am not good at talking my way out of tickets. Never had the female knack of crying on command. So, I have learned as I have grown older to just not speed. Not much, anyway.
I am sure, if you know me, that you know where this is going. Addicts are great at justifying their behavior. I hung up with him, irritated but not really surprised, and begin to plot my revenge. That will be one purse for christmas, and one purse for his ticket. Thank you very much.
I got home and pulled the pictures of the purses from my current purse and sweetly said, "Thank you for the purses you bought me!" El Hubbo says, "Purses? I thought...." and he paused in mid-sentence. I looked him right in the eye and dared him to continue. "You are welcome," he said.
I think our indian names would now be: Wise-man-with-leaden-foot, and She-with-many-purses.
Mention the words "Dooney & Bourke" or "Coach", and I will almost shiver with ecstasy. The leather is soft and beautiful. My addiction has not been helped by the fact that a fortuitous stop at an outlet mall outside of Denver landed me in the middle of a 70% off sale in a Coach outlet. It took me almost an hour to decide upon the one purse I would buy that day. I thought that would probably be my one and only dance with the purse devil. But the evil dealers got my email address and have ensnared me in a cycle I can't give up. Not only do I love purses, I love a good deal. So you can see how easy it was for me to take this plunge into addiction. About twice a year the pushers send me an email letting me have private access to a sale. And who in their right mind can turn down 70%off???? It's really not my fault! I'm sure you agree.
This year's sale was timed very well. El Hubbo has mixed feelings about my addiction. He is somewhat relieved that I can do my own christmas shopping, and he won't have to worry about going out christmas eve and fighting the other husbands who wait until the last minute to buy their wives something that they probably don't really want. This gift is a no miss. But, he doesn't understand why I need more than one purse. I tell him over and over that these purses are great quality, will last forever, straps won't break, etc. I'm not sure he's buying what I'm selling. But, if he intended to dampen my enthusiasm for my addiction, he did not do a very good job of it. Literally at the same time I was on the computer attempting to decide which of the lovely beauties would be mine this time, he calls me. I answer the phone (while never taking my eyes from the screen), and he proceeds to tell me that he got a speeding ticket.
This is not the first speeding ticket he's gotten during our marriage. El Hubbo has quite the leaden foot. I don't know how he drags that thing around. You wouldn't believe how many he's talked his way out of in the course of our marriage, but every now and then even my silver-tongued honey cannot con his way out of one. I am not good at talking my way out of tickets. Never had the female knack of crying on command. So, I have learned as I have grown older to just not speed. Not much, anyway.
I am sure, if you know me, that you know where this is going. Addicts are great at justifying their behavior. I hung up with him, irritated but not really surprised, and begin to plot my revenge. That will be one purse for christmas, and one purse for his ticket. Thank you very much.
I got home and pulled the pictures of the purses from my current purse and sweetly said, "Thank you for the purses you bought me!" El Hubbo says, "Purses? I thought...." and he paused in mid-sentence. I looked him right in the eye and dared him to continue. "You are welcome," he said.
I think our indian names would now be: Wise-man-with-leaden-foot, and She-with-many-purses.
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